


I hate the circus

by Lqdyromanova



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, Hawkeye (2012) issue 2, Kate Bishop Is a Good Bro, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 13:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13835082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lqdyromanova/pseuds/Lqdyromanova
Summary: Me and Clint,Or Clint and I,Strut down the red carpet,Which isn't really red.Or a poem about Hawkeye and Hawkeye





	I hate the circus

**Author's Note:**

> This is a poem.  
> I wrote it for school.  
> My teacher read vague fanfiction about Hawkeye and Hawkeye.  
> I’m still laughing.

Me and Clint,  
Or Clint and I,  
Strut down the red carpet,  
Which isn't really red.  
Lavender like my dress,  
Lilac like the doors,  
We hid in plain sight in the view of the mosquitos that go,  
Click,  
Flash,  
Click,  
"Kate, over here!  
Who are you wearing tonight?  
Who's the handsome man beside you?"  
And I reply like always with a carefree smirk and a laugh,  
"Someone old enough to know that he's not handsome anymore."

I walk into the circus tent and pretend to listen the Frenchman on the stage.  
"Le cirque du nuit!"  
More like "Le cirque du scam".  
The two of us gossip about the plan,  
Which turns into,  
Just stop criminals from turning into rich criminals.  
We're more than what we seem.

I walk in the darkness while the carnies do their thing,  
The criminals do theirs,  
And i do mine.  
Creak,  
Groan,  
Squeal,  
And squeak.  
I hope with all my training that no one comes along,  
Because luck gets you in a wheelchair,  
but skill will keep you out of one.

One day I will land myself in a situation where I have a weapon on me,  
I tell myself,  
As I get kicked into a wall.  
Did you that Kate sized holes are the new trend?

An unconscious body on the floor and a new part to play,  
An archer in the con mans gang.  
I follow the man with the cash to his prisoner.  
One Clint Francis Barton held at gun point,  
Which isn't so unusual,  
And more annoying than anything at this point.  
He waves,  
He smiles,  
And grabs me as the ricochet of bullets rain down around us,  
Throwing us over the balcony edge.

I knock an arrow or five,  
pull the taut string and hold it between the calluses of my worn fingers,  
A mission on my mind.  
The wire tenses,  
Back muscles tighten and lock,  
Breathe in,  
And out,  
And with the slip of a hand five arrows fly straight for their mark.

The aftermath, five mafia men with arrows in their shoulders,  
A bunch of stollen cash returned to the police and two superheroes sliding into the shadows.  
And as far as jobs like this have gone,  
This was one of the better ones.  
Nevertheless this is the typical life of a superhero,  
And I don't know about Clint,  
But,  
I hate the circus.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post here so please give me feedback and tell me what you think. I live off comments and kudos. Thanks for reading!


End file.
